


Overstuffed

by ashes0909



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Because I ate too much, Fluff, M/M, Thanksgiving, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909
Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Clint Barton only had so much room in his stomach.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After a wonderful meal and a glass (or three) of wine, I really felt like writing some Thanksgiving Day WinterHawk Fluff. I hope you enjoy. Happy holidays!

Contrary to popular belief, Clint Barton only had so much room in his stomach.

It was Thanksgiving, the first since Bucky had moved into the tower, and the two super-soldiers were determined to make everyone sick from overeating.

Clint decided it had to be related to the Great Depression. That, mixed with Tony’s endless supply of food, only created a recipe for disaster. Well, disaster in his digestive system. But true to popular belief, that was enough to make Clint Barton whine.

He turned in the couch, nuzzling his face further into the cushions and tried not to let the smell from the kitchen curl his overstuffed state into nausea. By the stove, Steve tapped his foot to music JARVIS had curated for the holiday, mixing sweet smelling fruits in a saucepan. He was oblivious that his ninth side dish --cranberry fluff salad-- was just unnecessary at this point.

The couch jostled as Bucky catapulted over the back and landed on the spot beside Clint. “Come on,” Bucky poked at his side. “We have hours till dinner, you won’t still be full from lunch by then.”

Clint groaned as he turned again, Bucky’s hand sliding from his side to his stomach, rubbing circles that soothed the contents underneath. Squinting his eyes open, Clint nodded approvingly at the comfort. “So. Much. Food.”

Natasha snorted at them from across the u-shaped sofa, where she relaxed with a book. A discarded plate sat on the coffee table in front of her. It was half the size of Clint’s because she understood the concept of portion control.  “He’s being ridiculous for attention. I advise that you ignore him.”

“Boo,” Clint groaned. “Don't be horrible, Nat, it's a holiday.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yea, Romanoff, don’t be horrible, it’s a holiday.”

“Why did we decide to let you two meet, again?” Natasha asked the pages of her book.

“Because,” Clint began, moving his head from the couch to Bucky’s lap. “SHIELD took Coulson away to oversee baby agents and you felt bad for me.”

Natasha snorted and turned a page.

“Negative,” Tony said as he walked into the room, wiping motor-oil off of his forearm with a rag. “We had that secret meeting. The one where we decided that the two assassin-slash-snipers could keep themselves out of trouble, we were officially washing our hands of the whole matter.” He crossed over to the corner of the kitchen, reaching a hand into the cooling dish of stuffing until Steve slapped it away.

“See, Tony’s hungry,” Steve said to Clint, eye still warning Tony away from the contents of their next meal. “Not all of us are dying from… What’s the opposite of dying from starvation?”

From his spot on the couch, Bucky grinned over his shoulder at Steve. “I don’t know Stevie, I don’t think they needed that word back in the forties.”

“Overconsumption,” Tony piped in, fingers digging at a marshmallow on the corner of the sweet potato casserole. “Or, I guess it could be considered death by gluttony but--”

“Will you stop it?” Steve reached his hand out, smacking across the back of Tony’s hip. “Those are still cooling.”

Tony jumped at the contact, turning to Steve with a wide grin. “Why Cap, you don’t seem to be cooling. Can I poke at you?”

“Ugh, really,” Clint groaned. He could only hear the pair and it was enough to make him want to roll his eyes. He could just picture Steve’s blush. It seemed like the only reason words came out of Tony’s mouth these days was to make Steve blush. “Barnes, can you hand me my bow? I need to poke my arrow into something.”

Natasha snorted, turning another page. “I think it’s sweet.”

“You’re wrong.” Clint replied. “Barnes, tell her she’s wrong.”

Bucky laughed, light and warm and real, and Clint might not be able to move but he could make Bucky Barnes laugh like that.

Contrary to popular belief, Clint Barton only had so much room in his heart. Right now, that felt like it was bursting too.


End file.
